


a moment in time

by glitteringconstellations



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Human shield, M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, maybe idk, that's what it started as but i kinda like it as a standalone too, we shall see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 09:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringconstellations/pseuds/glitteringconstellations
Summary: It was storming that night.It was dark and then it wasn't and then there was a startled shout and screeching tires and the sickening thud of metal colliding with flesh and then—"L-Lance?"





	a moment in time

**Author's Note:**

> i might continue this... i have... ideas™. but i wanna finish bsts first.
> 
> anyway sorry for killing lance again. he might not stay that way. who knows.

It was storming that night.

Thunder rolled from over the hills and lightning set the sky ablaze in irregular intervals. Heavy raindrops pounded the pavement mercilessly in sheets, the wind howling through the trees in relentless gusts. The slick hiss of tires on wet asphalt and the occasional honk of irritated drivers in the distance echoed up from the main road, bouncing off the buildings and down the back streets. It was, all in all, the typical cacophony of a late autumn rush hour.

Keith didn't hear any of it. All he could hear over the panicked thrum of his own heart was the incessant, high-pitched ringing in his ears.

“L-Lance?”

Halogen headlights flooded the otherwise empty street, and the frantic cries from the driver fell on deaf ears as she clambored out of her car, shell-shocked. Keith trembled uncontrollably from head to toe, struggling to get to his knees. Shattered glass and loose gravel dug into his palms as he crawled over to where Lance lay prone in the middle of the road. He was so, so still.

“Lance, please… please wake up…”

Keith managed to pull himself upright beside Lance, and he gingerly cradled Lance’s head, maneuvering it into his lap. Onlookers poked their heads out of the homes and shops that lined the narrow street, and he might have heard someone calling for an ambulance. None of that mattered. Only Lance mattered.

He brushed the rain-soaked fringe from Lance’s face, his own breath stuttering in his chest when the hand came away red. There was so much blood—he could feel the warmth of it soaking into his jeans from the back of Lance’s head. He patted Lance’s cheek, once, twice, three times, until he lost count. He wouldn't stop— _couldn't_ stop.

“You can’t sleep, you have to stay awake—please wake up!”

A crack of lightning split the sky and finally, _finally_ , Lance stirred. His eyes fluttered open, barely flinching against the raindrops battering his face. His breaths came uneven and lethargic. It took several long moments—too many, _God_ , too many, and Keith was sure his heart sat somewhere in his throat—before his gaze focused and fell on Keith.

“Keith…?” Lance’s breathy whisper was barely audible above the torrential downpour. “Are… are you all right?” His brow furrowed as he struggled to focus, a tentative hand coming to trace soft fingertips against a cut across Keith’s forehead. “You’re hurt.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled past Keith’s lips, short and strangled. “I’m fine, you idiot! You’re…!” So stupid, so careless, so very hurt, you’re _dying_.

Lance’s fingers slipped into his hair, tangling them in the soaked strands at the base of his neck, and all the words Keith might have said died on his lips.

“You weren’t hit?”

It all happened so fast. One moment, it was an ordinary evening out on the town. One moment, Lance's arm was draped loosely over Keith's shoulders, the two of them huddled under one tiny umbrella trying in vain to stay dry. One moment the two of them were laughing about something that would forever be lost to Keith, because one moment the little green walk sign came on and they were stepping off the curb in tandem, one moment the street was dark and then the next it wasn't, one moment Lance was smiling and the next his smile melted off his face. In just one moment Lance's arm around Keith tightened, tightened, tightened, suffocating as he pulled him close, _protective_ , and then there was the deafening screech of tires and the sickening thud of metal colliding with flesh and then—Keith shook his head, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat.

No, Keith wasn't hit. Lance made sure of that.

Lance sighed in relief, his whole being seeming to deflate with the force of it. “That’s good.” A violent tremor racked its way through Lance, so much so that Keith felt it down to his core. “It’s so c-cold.”

The words spurned Keith into action, and he quickly leaned back and stripped off his sweatshirt to drape over Lance’s chest. Not much good it’d do, drenched as they both were, but it was something. “It’ll be okay, Lance. We’ll get you warmed up, and you’ll be fine.”

Lance would be _fine_. But God, there was so much blood.

He had to stop the bleeding. Why wasn’t anyone here yet? Why wasn’t anyone _doing_ anything? “Someone _do_ something!” he shouted at the millers by, voice broken and terrified. He yanked his T-shirt off with some force, too, pressing that against the back of Lance’s head.

Lance winced at the pressure, his fingers tightening ever so slightly in Keith’s hair. “I’m scared,” he breathed.

“Don’t talk like that,” Keith said. A little too forcefully, perhaps, pressing even harder against the seeping wound. He slipped his free arm under Lance’s shoulders to support his head while he applied pressure. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re still here. You’re fine.” He was rambling, but he couldn’t stop.

Lance blinked languidly once, twice, his gaze searching. “I can’t… see you? Why can’t I see you?” He sounded so small. “Keith…?” His eyes slid closed once more. 

They did not open again.

“Shit, don’t go to sleep!”

Keith shook Lance by the shoulders, gently at first and then with more force. He couldn’t tell if the chill came from the rain hammering into his bare skin or from dread, couldn’t tell where the rain stopped and the tears started.

“Lance, please!”

The only response was one last, heaving gasp of air, expelled in a terrible, rattling sigh, and then Lance’s chest stilled. His hand fell limp from Keith’s hair, knuckles rapping the pavement with a soft splash.

“No, no, no no nonono—”

Keith pulled Lance closer, curling around him almost protectively. The bloodied T-shirt fell forgotten from his fingertips as he stroked the uninjured side of Lance’s head, rocking them both back and forth. Red and blue lights mixed with halogen, throwing an eerie glow on the pallor of Lance’s face, and there might have been sirens, but Keith still couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own broken pleas.

“Lance, please…” he begged, choked, sobbed into Lance’s hair. “Help is here. Stay with me.”

Lance didn’t move. It was too late.

Keith could only weep.


End file.
